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ISSUE 62.9
STEVEN CAREY Art Director
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ERIN HICKEY, JOSEPH BRYANT, RYAN ZUMMALLEN
Copy Editors
RYAN KOBANE Advertising Representative
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BREE HOPWOOD, ALLAN STEINER Advertising Representatives CHRIS BARRETT Internet Caregiver
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PHILIP VARGAS On-Campus Distribution VINCENT GIRIMONTE Off-Campus Distribution
LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
CHANGING PERSPECTIVE
RYAN KOBANE
A
s I stood in the security check line at JFK airport this past Wednesday I took stock of my life. I was in no way going through an existential crisis, as you may be thinking. Quite the contrary. See, I had spent the previous five days falling in love with a city, NYC, and once again with my camera. It was only a day before the eternal equinox, and as I contemplated the years to come I felt oddly rejuvenated. “Spring is here,” I told myself. It’s 80 degrees, and the heavy somberness of Winter’s chill already seems like a distant memory. So smile people. Take a deep breath. Realize that the majority of this country is still caught in a mess of frigid rain and gloom. Having to deal with a few midterms this week isn’t so bad when Spring Break’s right around the corner and it’s pretty much beach weather already. You may be asking yourself, why? Why have I gone through this
INSIDE THE UNION OPINIONS PAGE 5
Annalisa Brizuela blames America for her love of food.
MUSIC PAGE 10
Joseph Bryant starts a new column and continues to bitch about his foot. Not really, he talks about the new Batman film.
DARREN DAVIS, MILES LEMAIRE, CHRIS BARRETT, ANDREW WILSON, MICHAEL VEREMANS, CHRISTINE HODINH, JESSE BLAKE, DEREK CROSSLEY, CHRISTOPHER TROUTMAN, JAMES KISLINGBURY, PHILIP VARGAS, DAVID FAULK, PAUL HOVLAND, KATRINA SAWHNEY, ALLAN STEINER, SERGIO ASCENCIO, RUSSELL CONROY, KEN C., JOSEPH BRYANT, BRIAN NEWHARD, LAURA SARDISCO, ERIC BRYAN, LEAH MCKISSOCK, MARCUS BOCKMAN, ANNALISA BRIZUELA, JACKI GUTIERREZ
COMICS PAGE 15
Color comics page.... creeeeeepy.
Contributors
Disclaimer and Publication Information
The Union Weekly is published using ad money and partial funding provided by the Associated Students, Inc. All Editorials are the opinions of the writer, and are not necessarily the opinions of the Union Weekly, the ASI, or of CSULB. All students are welcome and encouraged to be a part of the Union Weekly staff. All letters to the editor will be considered for publication. However, CSULB students will have precedence. All outside submissions are due by Thursday, 5 PM to be considered for publishing the following week and become property of the Union Weekly. Please include name, major, class standing, and phone number for all submissions. They are subject to editing and will not be returned. Letters will be edited for grammar, spelling, punctuation, and length. The Union Weekly will publish anonymous letters, articles, editorials and illustrations, but they must have your name and information attached for our records. Letters to the editor should be no longer than 500 words. The Union Weekly assumes no responsibility, nor is it liable, for claims of its advertisers. Grievance procedures are available in the Associated Students business office. Questions? Comments? MAIL : 1212 Bellflower Blvd. Suite 256A, Long Beach, CA 90815 PHONE : 562.985.4867 FAX : 562.985.5684 E-MAIL : info@lbunion.com WEB : www.lbunion.com
ENTERTAINMENT PAGE 13
CULTURE PAGE 18
SPORTS PAGE 7
Sergio Ascencio trys to identify the reasons behind the dramatic decline in African American baseball players.
NEWS PAGE 9
Vincent Girimonte hangs out with Sal Castro, one of the founding fathers of LA’s Chicano movement.
The music page makes a super duper indie sandwich; one part Vampire Weekend, one part Nada Surf, and one part Jefferey Lewis.
RYAN KOBANE
VINCENT GIRIMONTE News Director KATHY MIRANDA Opinions Editor RYAN ZUMMALLEN Sports Editor VICTOR CAMBA Comics Editor KATIE REINMAN Creative Arts Editor EARL GREY Grunion Editor ERIN HICKEY Literature Editor & PR MIKE PALLOTTA Entertainment Editor SEAN BOULGER Music Editor & PR RACHEL RUFRANO Culture Editor RYAN KOBANE Photography Director
ryan@lbunion.com
back, and I had lost that mentality for some reason. I wasn’t allowing myself to enjoy the process of life anymore. Instead I found pleasure in enjoying the outcome. This is all wrong people. I realized that no longer was I enjoying the process of such things as taking photos or putting this paper together, but instead I was enjoying getting a great picture or seeing our issue come out on Wednesday. What it seemed like for me in NYC was that people take these moments, these moments that most of us don’t even notice, and they store them away. From a woman who told me that she finds happiness in seeing the smile on someone’s face when she hands them their caricature, to a bartender who made a perfect clover on each one of my Guinness’s, these people seem to have figured something out. Now I know what you’re thinking, and I understand that at some points in life it just becomes impossible to look at things in this way. What I’m trying to say here is that even if it’s one thing that you take absolute pride in, make it taking pride in enjoying the journey of life. It’s time to alter your perspective before someone else alters it for you. Now go enjoy your Spring Break.
Spring is here, and the culture page suggests some looks that may compliment the weather.
UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
Cover Photo
RYAN KOBANE Editor-In-Chief ERIN HICKEY Managing Editor MIKE PALLOTTA Associate Editor MATT DUPREE Associate Editor RYAN KOBANE Business Manager
awakening of sorts at perhaps the oddest time during the school year? The answer is: because I simply had to, and my guess is that you do too. The middle of second semester is the single worst time to be in college, and it was taking its toll on my soul to the extent of a complete meltdown. It’s like being able to see your off ramp but being stuck behind a flipped tractor trailer or something. Freedom is so close, and for me it was the realization of true freedom that only graduation provides that allowed me to see things from a different perspective. New York City had a lot to do with this. New York taught me (through the lens of my camera) that life is all about perspective. Gaining respect for the smallest things this world has to offer or just simply realizing that coffee in the morning can be extremely pleasurable is something most of us fail to do, myself included. We walk from class to class with a mindset that says, “What’s next? And how do I get there?” We spend so much time dwelling on the things that don’t define who we truly are, that we almost never discover who we truly are. I am a firm believer that what you put into life is what you get
OPINIONS PURITANS PERVADE A RESPONSE TO DR. MIKE HOSTETLER’S SPRING BREAK PROPAGANDA SENT VIA EMAIL TO THE CSULB STUDENT BODY
MICHAëL VEREMANS
W
e all know that the foundations for the United States were laid by a religious sect known as the Puritans. Ridiculed by Shakespeare, exiled from both England and the Netherlands (the most liberal country in the world), they were forced to establish their society abroad: America. Now, when I read a news article a month ago about some states proposing legislation that would lower the drinking age to anywhere from 18 to 20, I thought we were finally rolling back this draconian bullshit that has been the cause of teen death for decades. That’s right, the drinking age of 21 is not only arbitrary, it is dangerous. But I’m not here to discuss the legal drinking age, because everyone who wants a drink will drink. This article is a rebuttal to Dr. Mike Hostetler’s Spring Break mass e-mail that was ridiculous and redundant in scope and over all unenlightened and insulting to the student body. Since the Campus Police got enough money to
SELLING OUT
WHY WE’RE RESENTFUL ABOUT OBJECTS OF POPULARITY JAMES KISLINGBURY
Illustration ANDREW WILSON
“Selling out” is a term that’s bandied about a lot when people feel like writing off something as cheap or commercial. It’s a phrase that’s used especially in reference to bands that suddenly make it big. Against Me! has been getting flak from fans ever since they signed on to a bigger record label. Apparently some fans have a problem with the band making more money than they used to (“But how much cash do they really need?” some may say, as they adjust their berets and sip their cappuccinos). As if you have to start sucking to sell more albums (I would argue that the opposite is true). Bands lose their “specialness” when they become a part of a corporate label, as if they retired their eyeshadow and guitar for a suit and tie. It’s stupid to think that way. A band does not lose its talent when it starts becoming popular. There isn’t a set amount of awesome handed out to every fan, and it doesn’t get proportionately smaller as the audience gets bigger. This is how older children think when Mommy and Daddy tell them that they “are going to have a little brother.” This isn’t the kind of thing that discerning music aficionados should think (or anyone, for that matter). Your parents didn’t forget about you when Timmy Jr. popped out and, just like your folks, Against Me! isn’t going to send you an e-mail saying, “Sorry, we just don’t love you anymore.” Or maybe these new “mainstream” fans are like the guy your ex-girlfriend dates immediately after you. You know the one. He was taller, more attractive, a better dresser, and maybe even better read than you. He was UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
buy a mobile command center, the administration has been eager to use mass communication, such as email, to inform the students of crime on campus (and, strangely, non-crimes on other college campuses), remind us about registration, and tell us not to drink. This isn’t a father-knows-best college, and our administration is sending out prohibitory e-mails to the entire student body. This is an abuse of power, the large Security Update system, and our good sense.
We, as students, have the wit and clarity to know what we want and what is best for our bodies, and those that don’t won’t be saved by such an insulting e-mail. Dr. Hostetler, I’m sorry that my Spring Break won’t be as dull as the one you envision and push on the rest of the students here. I plan on drinking, dare I say, more than two drinks in a night. According to the finger wagging e-mail, that makes me a binge drinker, susceptible to death by alcohol and date rape and monsters and fun. Of course, alcohol consumption has led to the death of a small number of college students (and almost no CSULB students), but the reason it has gone that far is because of attitudes like Dr. Hostetler’s in the first place. Let me explain. The first suggestion in the e-mail, Dr. Hostetler’s list of Spring Break rules disguised as tips is that those under 21 should not drink. Well, if that archaic law hasn’t been stuffed down everyone’s throats a million times, it’s followed by the fear-based, false concern a goddamn twat. And you hated him for being involved with her. And the whole thing festered inside you because you believed that there was no way he loved her as much as you could. Now you see this dreaded scenario playing out again as your favorite band starts trying to court a younger, prettier, and more spend-happy version of yourself. The band no longer cares about you, their true fan. They only care about trading up to a better model. You are being abandoned by someone that doesn’t even know your name. It’s a safe bet that I’ve probably done the same thing in my (almost) twenty-one years of opinion having. I’d like to think that the reason I hate Dane Cook, Family Guy, American Apparel, and Paramore is not because it seems like ninety-percent of the world loves them, but because they suck. Though, regardless of how much I convince myself that these things are aberrations, I know that inside me there’s an angry fifteen-year-old thinking, “People like you, huh? Well I’ll show you!” at which point I then hit the “Submit Post” button. Though, it could be that
that employers don’t like arrest records. Students of Long Beach, unless you’re arrested for theft or a felony, your criminal record won’t and legally can’t be used to hire or not hire you. Drink away. The next two decrees talk about the fatality of alcohol. What a way to kick off our only fucking break this semester—a threatening message from the people that should be working for us. It’s this patronizing attitude and the high drinking age that continue to make alcohol an abused and disrespected drink and pastime. The US has almost twice as many drunk driving accidents as England, a country where teenagers age 16 have unlimited 24 hour access to alcohol—they don’t get e-mails like this. You’re not our parent—we are adults, we are college students, and we all want to live (for the most part). Thanks for your concern, but I’m not just gonna sit at home and read a book for a week. Spring Break is not a time for us to be scared into submission, it is a time for us to live, explore our world, or pick up a heavier work schedule to save up for that summer trip. We, as students, have the wit and clarity to know what we want and what is best for our bodies, and those that don’t won’t be saved by such an insulting e-mail. Stop using the e-mail system to waste our time by spreading this dangerous, insulting rhetoric. I plan on coming back from the break hung over, partied-out, and full of positive experiences because I didn’t listen to the anti-fun propaganda that the administration seemed to think it was a good idea to send out. Also, always mix alcohol and drugs. we start thinking of the word “sellout” as a selfdefense mechanism, because the object of the popularity reminds us of when we were dumber and more impressionable. We all cringe when we think about all of the pogs and Pokemon cards we bought or the hours we wasted listening to Limp Bizkit. This new and popular thing reminds us of every embarrassing trend we ever bought into and we resent it, whether it deserves it or not. We’d like to think that we’ve risen above that kind of vulnerability. We want to believe we aren’t going to get fooled again. But, eventually we are. Knowing that, I figure you’ve got two choices: a) move to that cute cabin in Montana that you’ve had your eyes on and avoid anything even mildly corporate or b) actually appraise and judge the things you see on an individual basis. Odds are you’ll come to the conclusion that it isn’t any good, but that’s true about all things, not just the things that make money. But, then again, where’s the fun in that?
OPINIONS
DEREK CROSSLEY
CONFESSIONS OF A GLUTTONOUS MIND WHY AMERICA IS TO BLAME FOR MY INCREASING WEIGHT ANNALISA BRIZUELA I went to my local In-N-Out the other day and ordered a number one (for all of you amateurs out there, that’s a Double Double, with cheese, mind you). Then, after eating that, I decided that I wanted a strawberry milkshake. After that, I wanted fries–animal style. In-NOut is known to be the only “healthy” fast-food choice out there, but that’s only if you order a certain (small) amount of food. Normal people would get explosively full off of the combo, probably even want to puke after eating it, but not me. I’m not normal, and I want everything on the menu. And then it occurred to me—this is probably the way most of Americans think about food. It’s a hopeless world for us fat folks. We try our best to not indulge in our sweet, sweet fantasies of swimming in French fries dipped in ranch while holding a pizza in one hand and a Big Gulp soda in the other. I try my best to hold back from giving Carl’s Jr. all of my savings each week by buying food there. But by the end of the long week, I feel like I should just forfeit my health for a taste of their “food”. After all, they do come at a cheap price. All you need is $5 and you’ll be set for the remainder of the day. That’s more than you can say for those bullshit organic food stores where a meal-to-go costs about $8. If America really wanted me to eat healthier, they would at least consider lowering the price of organic food. Or at least increase the size of my paycheck. And I try my best. I do. I eat salads sometimes and get
THE MODERN WOMAN LOOKING BEYOND THE TRADITIONAL GENDER ROLES KATRINA SAWHNEY
The modern woman is awesome. She has a wide range of interests, doesn’t play by the rules of those pesky gender roles, and generally kicks ass. The modern woman’s interests are beyond the traditional gender roles of yesterday. Most girls are interested in things beyond shopping, boys, their hair and makeup. Don’t get me wrong, we do like those things, but you’d be hard pressed to find someone whose passions lie among, and do not stray at all, from such a closed set. For instance, my magazine subscriptions include Cosmo, Vogue, Wired, Car and Driver, Auto Week, GQ, Anthem, American Photo and PC World. It is quite the array. It’s two parts nerd, two parts grease, two parts art, two parts femme fatale and one part sex-bomb. It works. It’s my own unique blend of being a modern woman. The days of women’s interests consisting of solely “girly” things are long gone. And it’s for the best. It makes for more appealing people who interested in
the light ranch. I bring my own lunch from home most of the time—neatly wrapped in my lunch box with an occasional mini candy bar for my daily sugar rush. But then as I walk past the Student Union, all hell breaks loose and I lose all my healthy inhibitions. I cannot help but trail off my regular path into the wonderful and comforting arms of El Pollo Loco. Goddamn those chickens. After carefully observing my eating patterns, I have come to the conclusion that America is to blame for my small, roundly stout shape. It’s America’s fault that I can’t get through climbing two flights of stairs without exaggeratingly grasping at my chest and whispering “water!” to my friends that are walking with me. It’s America’s fault that instead of daydreaming about boys like any normal teenager, I daydream about what I’m going to eat later in the day. I blame the endless commercials showing a large, juicy burger dropping from the top of my television, motivating me to lick the screen. You are the reason I am labeled as “clinically obese” and have to live with that title until I either become “clinically healthy” or “clinically anorexic”. So, fuck you America. I’m going to France, where the food portions are smaller and the people are skinnier.
a wider range of things. However, do not mistake this empowerment as a point for Team Feminism. The idea is not for ladies to be more masculine; it’s to pursue a wide range of interests regardless of the traditional gender roles that have been assigned to them. But ladies, do not, under any circumstances, be “that girl.” We have all encountered the “that girl”—the one that thinks just because she likes something of a usually masculine inclination, she is by proxy, one of the guys. (And guys don’t worry, we won’t be insisting on crashing any sausage-fests or boys’ nights. Those are all yours. The modern woman knows the need for guy time and conversely, we ladies need the same). Some females are still under the impression that despite the fact that they have branched out, they should retain the image of what a girl “should” look like. That’s fine, but only if they are being true to their interests. It can be intimidating if you can fix your boyfriend’s car when all he can do is shrug at the steaming beast in front of him. Move past it, the self-compromise is not worth it. And believe it or not, couples who are more androgynous in their likes and dislikes obviously have more in common and ultimately, are happier. I’m sure every generation has looked back and said the same thing of their mothers and the women before them, but it doesn’t steal the relevancy of where we are today. Life is good as a modern woman. UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
ANDREW WILSON
TO ALWAYS BEING THE SHARK I’m obsessed with sharks. I’m obsessed with symbiotic relationships. I love to throw around the term “mutually beneficial relationship.” I love the dichotomy of a killer swimming with prey he chooses not to eat because he sees that they benefit him. This is my approach to life. My friend Jill and I used to break apart every time we went out because when we were together we would fall into preplanned roles. One of us would be the shark and the other would be the fish—we would switch off. The room was never big enough to occupy two sharks, so we had to work together. As we both have grown up, our skin has turned grey, our teeth have grown angular and into multiple rows. We have both become sharks. Being a shark is a solitary existence. They swim alone through the wide expanse of the ocean. If they stop moving they will die. Traveling keeps their lungs full of air, breathes life into them. I can empathize. A shark doesn’t have time for emotions and social bullshit. He has his goals and he sticks to them. Swim, eat, fuck. That’s all sharks do. That’s all they need to survive. Sharks haven’t had to evolve heavily over the last few-million-years because they got it right the first time. They are so dedicated to these three tenets of existence that it’s all they do twenty-four hours a day. They inspire me. Look at the other fish in the sea—of which people tell me there are many. They swim about in massive schools. They are bunched tightly together and even move in massive synchronized precision. One looks just like the rest. The shark does not. He puts himself out there. He is the lone traveler, never taking the safe route, always looking for something bigger and better. I’ve never been good at standing in lines or doing what I’m told. Neither are sharks. Great White Sharks can’t be held in captivity. It doesn’t suit them. They die. Sharks are patriots. Their country is the open ocean. Give them liberty or give them death. A shark may be a loner, may take the current less traveled, but he still needs some help. This is where pilot fish come into play. The shark protects the fish while they accompany him on his endless journey. They keep him healthy and free of parasites. The shark shares scraps from his dinner in return. No man is an island—which even I have to grudgingly agree with—and no shark can live to be strong and powerful without a helping hand, or fin. It takes these symbiotic, “mutually beneficial,” relationships to succeed in any aspect of life. But there is always a choice. To be the shark or the fish. To swim hard and alone away from safety or to follow someone else and survive off whatever leftovers they don’t want. And here I raise my glass to always being the shark.
Illustration
NOTES OF A DIRTY YOUNG MAN
SPORTS FORGETTING JACKIE SIXTY-ONE YEARS AFTER ROBINSON BROKE THE COLOR BARRIER, WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE BLACK BASEBALL PLAYER?
SERGIO ASCENCIO
M
ajor League Baseball’s opening day is nearly upon us, and while we have gotten a slight baseball tease—thanks to the Dirtbags’ fast start to the season—it is important to recognize something big that MLB did a few weeks ago in efforts to increase diversity awareness in the sport we all love. Just last season, less than nine percent of players in Major League were African-American, and only 4.3% in all levels of college baseball, according to the most recent study of student-athlete race and ethnicity reports from the NCAA. The black baseball player hasn’t been this scarce since Jackie Robinson. To shed light on this issue, Major League Baseball hosted the first-ever Urban Invitational Tournament at their first-ever Urban Youth Academy, here in our backyard of Compton. Four colleges participated in the tourney, which featured a double-header televised by ESPN 2 on March 1. The participating schools were UCLA, USC, Bethune-Cookman and Southern University. B.C. and Southern University are historically Black colleges in Daytona Beach, FL and Baton Rouge, LA respectively. UCLA is Jackie Robinson’s alma mater. And just in case you’re wondering, both USC and UCLA had one Black player on their roster. And there are currently two players of African-American descent on this year’s Dirtbags squad. “A lot of the issues are in the not-so-good areas in the ghettos,” said Jason Tweedy, one of the two African-American Dirtbags. “They don’t have programs that promote baseball. They’ve got basketball, they’ve got football programs and that’s mostly what they are going to play because they don’t have baseball programs they can go to.” See, baseball is a game played within white lines, figu-
Photos RUSSELL CONROY UNION WEEKLY 26 MARCH 2008
“We should get these kids in the not-so-fortunate communities to get involved,” says Dirtbag infielder Jason Tweedy, one of only two African-American players at Long Beach State, along with outfielder Jonathan Jones (below, left). “This is a great game—something that can help them out in life and in sports.”
ratively and literally. That’s why we should applaud MLB ball, and big money is not guaranteed in baseball beand ESPN for their “efforts” to bring attention to the de- cause of its minor league system. And even at that, the cline of the Black player within those white lines. college experience will sometimes take a back seat to the “This is not just a Black issue,” said Jimmie Lee Solo- minor league dollar. mon, Major League Baseball Executive Vice President “To me, being Black wasn’t really a big issue ‘cause we of Operations. “It is an issue of Urban America.” had a lot of different races playing baseball,” said Tweedy Which is true, to an extent. When it comes to the col- who grew up in Newark, CA, about 25 miles south of lege game there are slightly more Latinos (5.4%) play- Oakland. “But as I played in the D-I college level I noticed ing baseball then there are Blacks. But “Urban” is such there are not a lot of Black players at all. Me and Jonathan a vague term and Jones are the only there is no statistical ones on this team data that proves how “If baseball is going to call itself the American that are Black and many baseball playwe don’t see a lot of pastime, it should look like America.” ers came from the Black players. And - Jimmie Lee Solomon, MLB Executive VP of Operations “hood” or low soafter watching the cioeconomic backUrban Invitational I grounds. White people live in urban areas as well. But noticed you really don’t see a lot of Black players. with its academy and Urban Invitational, I think it is We can’t forget that Major League Baseball is still a trying to reach awareness to players of all ages. business. MLB teams are a business. And for the same So there I was watching two Black colleges playing two reason the majority of our clothing is made overseas, it prestigious So Cal programs. Yet, the Bethune-Cook- is cheaper for a team to sign a pelotero outside the U.S., man roster had more Latin flavor than MTV Tres. First, particularly in Latin America. That is why so many teams the head coach was Latino and the roster consisted of 14 have invested in baseball development camps, where they Puerto Ricans and five Whites. Southern University had have year-round scouts looking for the next big stars. The a handful of Latinos and six White players. Dominican Republic itself will be represented by more In just three decades Major League Baseball has than 10 percent of all major leaguers this season. gone from a quarter of its players being African-AmerThat said, it is important to note this Urban Academy ican to flipping roles with Latin Americans, who now is a MLB production, not a Yankee camp, or a Dodger make up a little less than a third of the players on Ma- camp, it’s all MLB. I can’t help but think that MLB and the jor League rosters. commissioner have been filibustering this issue for some “We have no problem with diversity,” Solomon said time. According to Solomon, the noticeable issue of the in referring to MLB. “The issue is with an erosion of decline of the African-American player and opening of African-American participation. Latino players are on an Urban Academy was discussed over a decade ago. The the rise—they are the fastest growing group in Major Urban Academy just recently opened up in 2006. League Baseball.” Now, ironically on a leap year weekend, on this mod“Forty-percent of our signees every year in baseball ern day “field of dreams,” the interest in collegiate baseare from Latin America. So we are very diverse. And the ball was sky high. It brought out Kenny Lofton, former Asian population is growing within our game, everything major-leaguer Eric Davis, Hall of Famer and former is growing; but the African American population is de- Washington Nationals manager Frank Robinson. Even clining. That’s why we are working so fervently in that actor/director Bill Duke was out at the park. area. Because we need to revitalize the interest of the AfPerhaps more relevant was the support from the fans. rican-American fan and player back into our game.” I stood and watched the game from the first baseline Truth is, this African-American dilemma is no equa- but with the perspective of some Southern Alumni who tion or formula—there is no straight-up answer. There came to watch the game from Jackson, Mississippi, Atare only speculative examinations of the issue. You hear lanta and Detroit. And they were there while UCLA was that there is a lack of baseball facilities, lack of visual playing Bethune-Cookman, hours before Southern took appeal (especially in college) versus basketball and foot- the field against USC. They all were excited to be at the
DIRTBAGS ON DIRTBAGS
VG: Fuck you Jackie Robinson. DD: Vince is being a bigot yet again. VG: Jackie Robinson Stadium, that is, the sight of “D on D’s” first-ever road edition, a booze ridden menage a trois with destiny. There wasn’t enough liquor, however, to calm my anger at the fifteen dollars I (Darren) forked over to gain admittance after displaying our perfectly laminated credentials to a couple of geriatrics tearing stubs at the gate. “This is UCLA,” said the Bob Hope on the left. “We don’t take THOSE passes.” Yes, I thought, we’re in LA. We could only be in LA. DD: This place is a glorified little league field. Their stadium music is taken directly from Now That’s What I Call Music 17. I feel like I’m at an 8th grade dance. At least there are other Dirtbag fans to bear this fresh hell with us. Many others, in fact. The visitors’ section is packed. We are the derelict parade from down the 405. Fans of a top-ranked baseball program. Meanwhile, the UCLA (10-8) support has as much energy as a tollbooth operator. If today is to be a blowout, the table is certainly set. VG: UCLA opens the scoring in the second the old fashioned way, moving the runner around the paths with a hit here, a lucky bounce there. The Dirtbags (143) avoided disaster thanks to starting pitcher Andrew Liebel (2-0) and a few strikeouts with Bruin runners in scoring position—a familiar scene for Darren and me. We’ve been watching Liebel for four consecutive Fridays and let’s face it, we’re kind of hot for the guy… in a purely professional manner, of course. He’s a big league pitcher throwing long division at 1st graders. Top of the 3rd brings more runs than a post-curry dinner bowel movement. DD: Dropping a 5-spot so early in game can ruffle the feathers of the home crowd. The UCLA sweater next to me is making snide remarks to his girlfriend every time Vince calls into question the integrity of the umpire (whose strike zone is shaped like the Eiffel Tower, apparently). UCLA starting pitcher Tim Murphy (2-1) is shaken up after being taken on a merry-goround for a bit. “Hey 24, at least you’ll get a good degree,” shouts Vince, to which Sweater murmurs, “At least make intelligent remarks.” I spit seeds on his Nikes. Best go see if you can catch the 1st round of the basketball tourney, Trev. This game is over. VG: Beneath the Brentwood twilight we witness baseball perfection. Listen, “D on D” readers, this team is good. Cutty Sark good, and equally as smooth. We leave our seats to pass the time for a few innings. Bottom of the eighth, Dirtbags up 8-3 and cruising quite comfortably. Our attention is grabbed by tots rolling down a hill above the dugout. Not real kids, though. Kids named Paris and Madison and wearing Crocs. We think of partaking in a few rolls, but the whiskey in our pockets reminds us of our innocence is as defeated as UCLA’s pitching staff. DD: We catch a few cigs along the outfield field gate, where the Dirtbag bus driver has been waiting to go home. It is turning out to be a 4 hour game. Bruin pitchers just can’t close this one out. I yell something nonsensical at the right fielder, which I immediately recognize as a faux pas. No heckling after the 8th if your team is up by 5 or more. Rookie move, Darren.
continued from page 6 American descent. As are the last two National League Urban Academy more so than their trip to Disney- MVPs (Phillies Jimmy Rollins and Ryan Howard). land they said. Gracing the cover of ESPN the Magazine’s “FanThen I met Juan Corona, a Compton resident, a tasy Baseball Issue” were the Upton brothers who, Latino, but more importantly a baseball fan. He was you guessed it, are Black. Justin was the first pick in watching the game on TV with the stadium lights the 2005 draft, straight out of high school. B.J. was shining in through his windows. So he decided to the second overall pick in 2002. In fact, 17 of ESPN’s come to the academy and join in on the festivities top 100 fantasy favorites for this season were Africanwith his 3 year-old son. American. A third of those 100 were Latinos, which is What they all had in common was that they all recog- straight on reflective of their ratio in the sport. nized and appreciAs this writer ated the efforts done looks back, two The noticeable issue of the decline of the by MLB, but more of my favorite African-American player was discussed over major leaguers of so they all wanted to watch good, quality a decade ago. But the Urban Academy only all-time are Tony baseball. Gwynn and Ken recently opened up in 2006. “If baseball is goGriffey Jr., both ing to call itself the Black, and both American pastime, it should look like America,” Solo- were just ballers at what they did. And my argument mon said when asked why people should care about for best all-around baseball player in the Bigs right the decline of the Black baseballer. “And America has now would be for Tampa Bay’s Carl Crawford, a fivea distinct part of its population African-American, tool player with a rare sixth gear. Latinos, Caucasians, Asian. All of them are part of the Tweedy said that he has always admired Yankee community. If baseball wants to be the American pas- shortstop Derek Jeter, but after finding out that he is time it should reflect all of America.” bi-racial with a African-American father and white And with the decreased number of African-Ameri- mother he could relate to him beyond the diamond. can athletes you lose the visibility of an entire culture. I am not black, I am just a baseball fan, a fan of culPlayers, fans, and personnel miss out. Last season two ture and diversity. In no way am I trying to say we’re MLB teams did not have a black baseball player on living in a baseball civil rights era, but in a way it is retheir opening day rosters. gressing in terms of black baseball players. Black his“When you start hanging out with these guys you tory in general has been such a symbolic staple of this learn about all these different cultures,” said Tweedy. country’s development that I can’t help but cringe at the “[They are] your family and they introduce you to thought of baseball regressing in its own past. these cultures and you just learn a lot more.” But baseball has broken attendance records three Despite the shrinking number of black players years and counting for a reason. It has the best prodthroughout all levels of baseball, bittersweet is the success uct in the world. And there will always continue to be of African-Americans in recent MLB history. Three of shifts in racial-demographics. Baseball is continued to the last five first picks in the Amateur draft are of African- be played between white lines—blurred white lines.
TALE OF A MODERN DAY JACKIE SERGIO ASCENCIO
I grew up in San Diego, just minutes from the U.S.Mexican border in San Ysidro. I played on both sides of the border, which helped my baseball game as much as it did my Spanish. When I was 14 years-old, my dad and coach (whose son also played on both sides of the border) decided to invite my friend Tommy B. to play with our team in Tijuana. Tommy loved the idea and soon loved playing baseball in a whole different country, with a different culture. You see, Tommy was Black. He was an instant legend—not because of his talent, but because of his skin. People were in awe to see a Black player on the Tijuana team when we played in a national championship in Chihuahua, Chihuahua. He loved it though—as he was featured in enough articles to fill up The Union Weekly, front to back. He was even offered a contract to sign with a Mexican Summer League team. But the point is, he was the Jackie Robinson in my life—but in Mexico, in the year 2000. Our team lost the championship, consolation being that we were the second
best team of 13-14 year-olds in the country, but we were known as the team with Tommy B, el pelotero negro. Now, I look back, and think it is kind of embarrassing to think that it was the year 2000 and people were worried more about his color than his glove work. But at the same time, he learned a new culture and people learned through him. I know my teammates did. And no one on that team will forget that experience or Tommy B. That is what baseball is about, that is the power behind a sport. That is the power behind diversity. And that is why I care about the decline of the black baseballer.
SERGIO ASCENCIO
DARREN DAVIS VINCENT GIRIMONTE
SPORTS
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This week: UCLA series
UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
NEWS FEE HIKES: ONE MORE TIME, BABY ONE STUDENT WARNS US TO PROTECT OUR WALLETS
VINCENT GIRIMONTE
C Illustration ANDREW WILSON
alifornia’s budget deficit has become the foul uncle at the holiday table. He’s a grumpy SOB and curses at your mother in front of your father, and guess what, he’s coming back next year. You’re forgiven if you’ve grown indifferent to the deficit or the above metaphor is eerily similar to your normal Holiday discourse. Either way, this year’s deficit is around $16 Billion. Noted, so let’s pull some BandAids and cut some funding. Not so fast. The budget deficit could mean a ten percent increase, possibly higher, in CSU fees after several years of tuition spikes. Travis Miller is a graduating senior leading a campaign to bring about awareness of the Governor’s proposed budget cuts, culminating in a rally this Wednesday, the 26th, at noon in front of the friendship walk on the East Lawn. According to Miller, who was contacted by the California Faculty Association (CFA) and Students for Quality Education (SQE) to spearhead that anti-CSU budget cut campaign here at CSULB, education is simply not an institu-
UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
tion that can sustain less money. “You can’t just do a ten percent cut across the board because the whole idea of the CSU system is accessibility,” said Miller in his sharpened rhetoric, drawing attention to the student fee hikes that may prevent low-income students from being able to afford their higher education. Backing Miller are the distinguished endorsements of President F. King Alexander and ASI President Mark Andrews, as well as, according to Miller, a strong majority of CSULB faculty. The simple argument for the budget cuts, being in a struggling economy there needs to be cutbacks, was met with a simple answer from Miller. “Simple economics,” said Miller. No, really, that’s what he said. “The reason for that,” he went on, “is because for every dollar invested in the CSU system, four dollars and forty-one cents in generated in the community.” But what of our current tuition, and National reputation as a “best bang for your buck” institution; it’s a well known fact that the CSU has always been considered a beacon of affordable higher education, leading one to believe that if any system could handle a bump in fees, it would be ours. “Part of the reason California is the most powerful economic force within the Union is because we have a highly skilled workforce,” Miller contended. “Our services [like the CSU] provide not just the net but a trampoline for the citizens.”
Miller claims there is enough time for Governor Schwarzenegger and State Legislature to reevaluate their plan to curb the State’s budget crisis and hopefully formulate an alternative that does not involve a fee hike for CSU students.
NEWS
WE’VE COME FAR BUT HAVE A LONG WAY TO GO
VINCENT GIRIMONTE
S
al Castro is the consummate educator. We arrive at an East Los Angeles public broadcasting studio in the midst of a makeshift lecture on American civil rights, the Chicano, and space-travel outside what looks like an abandoned barn. There’s a semi-circle of high school students around him, intently listening and no doubt comforted, like myself, by his friendly demeanor and a face beaming with honesty. “I bet you didn’t know that we have Latino astronauts,” I eavesdropped. The crowd plead guilty. I was in East Los Angeles at an obscenely early hour in hopes of getting some one on one with Castro, a major figure of the Chicano movement and an inspirational leader of the 1968 student walkouts against the Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD). For Chicanos in the greater Los Angeles area, his story has given him a local celebrity status that radiates from his stocky frame. As a young teacher at Lincoln High School, Castro encountered an establishment of academia unwilling to acknowledge the growing Mexican-American population of ‘60s LA in the classrooms, and thus did what any good American should have done: he took it to the streets. 36,000 students, the largest student protest the United States had ever seen, carrying signs of brown empowerment, blanketing the streets of East Los Angeles in a frenzy akin to nothing Angelinos had seen before. He will be appearing at CSULB on April 11th for a dialogue between area Latino students on the importance of a higher education. Back to our archaic TV station in East LA, where Castro was to be a guest on Eastside Primetime, Arturo
Sal Castro has been teaching for forty-five years; he found it hard to keep from sharing his knowledge with those in his presence.
screenwriters (and not a dime thrown his way, he’ll tell you, save the Gucci wallet he received for his help) but believes the film ultimately portrayed the events with fairness. A hearty thank you and applause is thrown his way after his segment ends. He only accepts them with tears welling in his eyes. We finally sit for a few moments. The Walkouts were in 1968, a long time ago by anybody’s watch. I asked him what exactly we’ve seen come to fruition, what sort of yielding the protests against the LAUSD have produced. “There have been many leaders that have risen because of the Walkout, the Mayor [of Los Angeles, Antonio Villaraigosa] was a walkout kid,” said Castro, crediting a new sense of empowerment that has carried through generations of Mexican-Americans, giving Gloria Romero, State Majority Leader, and Chicanos like her proof that change is possible. Castro’s idenity as an educator began to surface when talking about what Californians, not solely Chicano students, should be studying in the classroom. “Ethnic studies should be part of American studies,” he said. He went on to say that American history should be stretched in the classroom, with another half-year devoted to studying the minority voice of our Democracy—the substance that often isn’t intrinsic to the routine European history emphasized in our curriculum. “Kids are dropping out of high school at a fifty-seven percent clip,” said Castro with the same pulsating urgency he had expressed to me nearly three hours before. Through my interactions with him, through my interactions with students he’s inspired, I could only assume upon leaving that he wouldn’t quit until that statistic had been acknowledged by the public, and subsequently prioritized. UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
KEVIN JARA
A CIVIL RIGHTS ICON SAYS
Photos
DON’T BE A PENDEJO
Esparza’s community Chicano production that he likens to an Apollo Theatre for local Latinos in East LA. He began production at the station in 1989—it’s an abandoned warehouse sitting atop one of those sporadically placed hills LA grows like gentle domes. The show was Mom and Pop through and through, but hectic nonetheless. It was Esparaza’s last show in his old studio that he currently shares with a Time Warner office, boxes and other dusty materials in the mainentrance, small offices surrounding the tiny studio like a tin-lunch. It has remained viable through the same “Si Se Puede” grit and without the touch of proper funding. He was anxious regarding the move to another, preferably more professionally equipped studio, but also nostalgic towards the memories that would be left behind. I briefly became worried my interviewee would be too busy for some alone time; Castro continued to speak of his cause to people surrounding him, including a few familiar faces, specifically of his role as coordinator of the Chicano Youth Leadership Conference, a program targeting urban high-school juniors in developing and creating a more linear path to a college education. I didn’t want to interrupt. He really knew what he was talking about. There is nothing indulgent about his rhetoric, mind you; he speaks with the force of experience and the credibility of having done something to change his plight. Vanessa Rueda, a Cal State Long Beach freshman, was one of Castro’s avid listeners and a recent Chicano Youth Conference Graduate. “He said we were all born-again Mexicans,” remembers Rueda, alluding to one of Castro’s original gripes with the LAUSD back in 1968, motivating him to reinvigorate the pride and culture within the Chicano community. Rueda added that she continues to relish their friendship; you know, I suppose it would be nice to have one of your civil rights heroes on a first name basis. The security guard is less a security guard than a heckler of the press. He calls me liberal and therefore biased. It was flattering. He also calls me Kurt Cobain and tells me Mr. Castro is filming his segment now, and that I should take a seat on the legendary “low-rider” couch in the studio. Esparza’s interview lead Castro to the story of Walkout, an HBO film directed by Edward James Olmos in which the protests at Lincoln High, centered on student Paula Crisostomo and Castro, are dramatized. Castro recalls having five different interviews with five different
MUSIC
NADA SURF I
SEAN BOULGER
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t’s 9:25pm at the Glass House in Pomona. It’s still about 80 degrees outside, but I’m sitting in the apartment-like green room, drinking a Stella. The three members of Nada Surf are sitting on a couch in front of me, while a few photographers (all from college newspapers or publications not unlike this one) float around, snapping pictures feverishly. The reason for the photojournalistic feeding frenzy is as follows: having been asked to sit on a couch and pose for photographs, singer/guitarist Matthew Caws decides, in a moment of spontaneity, to grab an acoustic guitar and launch into an impromptu acoustic rendition of “Ice on the Wing” (from the band’s newest release Lucky), complete with threepart harmonies. It kinda made me want to grab a tambourine and join in; I doubt anybody would have said anything. Like their music would suggest, Nada Surf are three of the most congenial gentlemen I’ve run across in quite some time. Since the release of the critically-acclaimed Let Go in 2003, their music has been leaning more and more towards optimism on a thematic level, with their most recent music teetering on the brink of an optimism overdose. This, however, doesn’t seem to be bothering their fans in the least. Though not quite sold out, The Glass House was home for an evening to plenty
RYAN KOBANE UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
of 16-year-old girls and their doting indie boyfriends brave enough to make the long, scenically boring trek to Pomona. At around nine, Nada Surf punctually walked onto a stage that was decorated in a manner whose description easily matches that of their music: enjoyable, but simple and light in concept. Curved mirrors stood on stands around the drumset and behind Caws and bassist Daniel Lorca, reflecting their images and that of the crowd in front of them. Was the show enjoyable? Sure. Was I terribly impressed? I can’t say that I was. Nada Surf ’s music has never been anything close to challenging, and they were represented onstage in a fairly straightforward manner. The energy wasn’t particularly high, and nothing was really added to the songs. There was nothing that made me terribly excited, but apparently my sentiments weren’t shared by the rest of the crowd. Either these kids were really big Nada Surf fans, or everyone in attendance was at their very first rock concert. There was plenty of jumping and hands in the air, and to be honest, this positive vibe was more than enough to heighten the enjoyability of the show. I may not have left the Glass House elated because I had just seen an experience of a rock show, but I was certainly pleased (and not just because I was leaving Pomona). They’re not breaking any serious barriers, but it’s safe to say that Nada Surf ’s music would be enough to sufficiently cheer anybody’s shitty day. continued page 11
SPOTLIGHT ON
MUSIC
lo-fi
ALLAN STEINER
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(continued from page 10)
Union Weekly: How do you guys feel about the new record? Are you excited about it? Matthew Caws: Yeah, we’re really excited. It’s a funny thing to make one, because you never know how much you’re going to like it, you know? UW: How did this record differ from other records? You didn’t work with Chris Walla again. MC: Right. We were open to working with him again; it was a great experience. But he was busy, and we had been wanting to work with John Goodmanson for a long time. He did a couple of mixes on the last record that were amazing. We’ve heard such good things about him as a producer—Sean Nelson from Harvey Danger had said that if you ever get the opportunity to work with him, you absolutely should. He made two records with him, so it sounded like the kind of recommendation we should listen to.
UW: You guys have been around for quite a while. How has that affected the songs you write and the creative process that goes into them? MC: I’m not sure that it has, I don’t know. Daniel Lorca: I think something changed a little bit at that point where we were in this music business vacuum. I mean, we didn’t have a manager. UW: Yeah, you guys were on a major label at one point. DL: Yeah, and then we didn’t have anything. We didn’t have a manager, we didn’t have a booking agent, and as far as some people were concerned, we didn’t really have a band. We just kind of did the album our own way, and it made everything a lot more natural. It was a lot less about how things should sound, versus how they actually sounded on the album. I think from that point on, we made records a little bit differently, you know, without really having an end point in mind; never really knowing how the album’s going to go. So that was kind of a liberating experience. UW: What is it that really prompts you to write?
MC: Well, when I’m upset. I mean, that’s when I do it. But it’s usually if it’s something I can’t put into words. Then sometimes it helps, if I try to do that. It puts a handle on something, it makes it so that you can lift it and put it somewhere else. It’s kind of like the moment when I admit something, you know? I can’t admit it until it rhymes, because then it’s somehow a little easier to say, or easier to think. It’s like a barrier between oneself and one’s feelings. It makes them easier to deal with. UW: How was making this record different from making the last record, or the record before, and how did that affect how the record turned out? MC: At least in the writing part of it, it really never is that different [laughs]. DL: We played a lot more for this one, ahead of time. When we did The Weight Is a Gift, we had gone in with Chris Walla, but we hadn’t gotten together to prepare. UW: Isn’t Chris Walla just a fucking great producer? DL: Oh, we just love him. UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
RUSSELL CONROY
AN EVENING WITH NADA SURF
Jeffrey Lewis, having very low
he was very much influenced by Crass and fidelity at LA’s Troubadour. their decision to stick to what they thought was good as opposed to listening to critics who said that they weren’t very good. As a lifelong New Yorker, the New York music scene has been a huge influence on him. He loves bands like Prewar Yardsell and Dufus. The thing I found most interesting about Jeffrey Lewis is how seriously he takes music. It’s a passion that extends far past the reach of any profession. It’s this passion that separates good artists from great artists. Sure they might sound strange and different at first, but give these guys a chance and you will soon realize that it’s artists like this that make Lo-Fi a legitimate genre.
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o-Fi is a genre that encompasses music recorded with lower quality recording equipment. While the genre technically includes all music recorded this way, the term is generally applied to Lo-Fi music of the indie persuasion. This is because most Lo-Fi bands are smaller groups who either can’t afford to make it into a recording studio or prefer the freedom of recording themselves. Artists can record their music with the help of a tape recorder, their computer, or any other means they might think of. Music is an art form. When it is done right, it is created with the intent of having an emotional effect on the person listening to it. While some music gives the listener energy, other music is calming. While some music makes you think, other music makes you laugh. A genre whose music makes you feel connected to its creator is just as good as any of these. It’s not a genre of music that needs to be listened to exclusively, but it is a genre that deserves to be acknowledged. What sets Lo-Fi music apart from it’s higher quality brethren is the freedom that the style of recording allows. When artists are not confined to limited time in a studio or to the demands of a studio executive, true creativity reigns supreme. Also while studio releases generally only contain music tracks, Lo-Fi music often contains the artists and band members talking to each other. When this happens, the entire album comes off feeling more casual; you get to know the people making the record on a personal level, which is something you don’t get in many other genres of music. Talented artists are not necessarily rich artists (and vice versa). For every band out there that gets the recognition they deserve, there is a handful of artists who never get the time of day. If these artists are putting out any music at all, there is a good chance it is recorded in Lo-Fi. Because talented unknown artists are releasing this way, it is possible to find some real treasures among the masses of Lo-Fi recordings. When you find these treasures, when you discover a relatively unknown musician, you develop a connection with that artist that can be extremely rewarding. You recommend their music to others and on some level you want to see that group succeed. Artists including The Mountain Goats, Apples in Stereo, Beck, Of Montreal, and The Shins all got their start as Lo-Fi artists. Some artists such as Neutral Milk Hotel, and The Moldy Peaches actually received their fame for being Lo-Fi artists. Among the latter is Jeffery Lewis, with whom I had the pleasure of speaking. I saw Jeffery Lewis and his band open for The Mountain Goats at the troubadour. The group’s on stage dynamic was full of the type of unrelenting fun that can also be heard on their albums. And while the group’s albums are really good, I think their live act is even better. I met Lewis the day after his performance at the Troubadour before he played a smaller stripped down show at Long Beach’s very own indie record haven: Fingerprints (which for those of you not in the know is on 2nd Street). First some words on the band. They are undoubtedly Lo-Fi in just about every sense. They write songs about things they find fun, people’s reaction to their music, and just about anything else they feel like writing about. In fact, Lewis admitted that he feels that the group’s strongest attribute is their variety. Some songs are fictional while others are fact. Still, others are a strange combination of the two. During their show, Lewis sings stories assisted by his own artwork. His artwork also extends to his own comic book, which much like his music, focuses on fact, fiction, and a combination of the two. The band’s latest record is an album of Crass cover songs. Jeffery Lewis said that
MUSIC AMERICA’S SWEETHEARTS VAMPIRE WEEKEND PLAY A SHOW AT THE EL REY RACHEL RUFRANO
W
Photos RYAN KOBANE
hat can be said about Vampire Weekend that hasn’t already been said? You already know that they’re the most hyped and promising band of 2008. You already know that their self-titled album and single “Mansard Roof ” have garnered them monumental success, but fame is fickle in a world that lives and dies by the blog. The next big thing is always around the corner and one can’t help but miss the days when an artist’s life expectancy was longer than their hit song. But people like Vampire Weekend. They want them to succeed—and who wouldn’t? With wit as sharp as their collars, how could they possibly go wrong? There are many skeptics out there, most of whom are their biggest fans, who fear that they may burn out as quickly as they’ve sparked the flame, and this is, more often than not, the reality. We’ve seen it happen to groups like The Arctic Monkeys, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!, and Jet. The Weekend’s moment of truth arrived last Thursday at the El Rey in Los Angeles. It was only their second time playing in LA, and I can safely say that they’ll be returning for many weekends to come. Upon arriving, I was glad to know that, despite the incessant poking and prodding of the media, they held a modest cult fan base—and I say cult because these fans were dressed like Cambridge professors in a city plagued by scenesters. The crowd was, for the most part, plump thirty-somethings that desperately missed Paul Simon before he ended up having more hair than Garfunkel. “Has anybody ever been to one of our many LA shows?” Lead singer Ezra Koenig’s dry humor goes over well with this crowd. “Remember that funny thing we tried to do?” Oh yes, Ezra, I remember. You tried to organize a call-and-repeat to fifty curious Troubadour hipsters and nobody participated. My, how things have changed; this time, even the security guards, the bathroom maids, and tech guys were hollering an echo to “Blake’s Got a New Face.” The boys have certainly come a long way and are enjoying the popularity they’ve culminated. They were dancing on stage and cracking jokes about the decline of Western civilization, which is far different from the timid stance they had taken just months before. The Weekend solidified their success by playing two brand new songs. “White Sky,” in which Koenig ululates over a clap-happy African beat, and it’s probably one of their best songs yet. And then there’s “Little Giant,” a song created in light of the group’s great love for California (I highly recommend digging these songs up on YouTube). I was thoroughly impressed with the group’s ability to sustain the attention of the crowd. There’s an art to knowing what songs to play and in which order—when to bring the mood down, when to kick it up a notch, and how long to leave the audience waiting for their favorite song. It seems that Vampire Weekend has their timing down and it can only be so long until they release another hit album, at which point the group will trade hype for substantial long-term talent. UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
ENTERTAINMENT DRILLBIT FAILURE A REVIEW OF THE NEW MOVIE DRILLBIT TAYLOR LEAH McKISSOCK
A
lesson has been learned from Drillbit Taylor: not everything Seth Rogen is involved with is good. Due to Superbad being the funniest film in years, expectations of Rogen’s writing abilities are high, but it’s certainly not excusable that Drillbit Taylor had so many similarities to it. Just as in Superbad, Drillbit features three geeky kids in high school with very awkward characteristics. One is fat with a loud vulgar mouth and an afro, another is the third wheel of the group with a strange voice and funny face, and the last is a tall scrawny kid who’s a little more soft-spoken (similar to Michael Cera in Superbad) and has the crush on the girl. These three characters worked well the first time but they aren’t as successful this time around. The characters worked so well in Superbad because they were written into situations that were believable, they acted realistically in those situations, and they looked exactly like people we all knew in high school. It’s safe to say that everyone in Drillbit Taylor acted as if they had no sense of reality, and their absurd behavior instantly made me feel disconnected from them. The problem only mirrored how ridiculous and disengaging the plot was, which
was the root reason the film couldn’t make me laugh out loud once. Drillbit is about two friends who are nervous about starting their first day of high school. But when they see the school bullies shove a kid into a locker, they tell them to stop and immediately become bully-magnets for the rest of their high school careers. When the bullying gets too extreme for the geeks, they decide to hire a bodyguard to protect them at school. Meanwhile Drillbit Taylor (Owen Wilson), a homeless army discharge, is begging people on the street for money so he can try to escape to Canada. Somehow in the amount of time Drillbit is able to sneak onto a random person’s laptop in a coffee shop, he’s also able to respond to the ad the geeks posted and use the position as a way to milk them for all they’re worth. As a group, the homeless man and some spoiled teenagers come together, and two worlds collide, leading to
At least Owen Wilson (above, adult getting beaten) isn’t the one hurting Owen Wilson anymore.
excessively unrealistic disasters and triumphs. Owen Wilson and his acting career have seen much better movies. Someone like Jack Black, who people are used to seeing act absurd in situations and who usually pulls it off, should have played the role of Drillbit Taylor. Wilson isn’t quite outlandish enough to put life into a poorly written role which many other skilled actors are capable of doing. Drillbit attempts to be a second Superbad but just turned out being the complete opposite: not funny. It may not have been Rogen’s fault that Drillbit was a failure since Kristofor Brown (co-writer of Drillbit) has never written anything for the big screen before. Luckily, Seth Rogen has re-teamed with the co-writer of Superbad (Evan Goldberg) for the film Pineapple Express, which is to be released in August and is rumored to have one of the funniest screenplays ever written. Drillbit has definitely got to be the end of writer Kristofor Brown’s career (and the end of the three geeky actors’ careers as well) but there is no doubt in my mind that Seth Rogen will make a comeback from this terrible disappointment of a film. Leah calls this one a Drillbit Failure and only gives it:
Photos
PARAMOUNT PICTURES
Ex-Nickelodeon fatty fat fat Josh Peck (Drake & Josh) picks a role that lets him be the one blowing the bubble in people’s faces.
is accepting applications for Editor-in-Chief. Inexperienced need not apply. Pick up an application at USU Administration Office 216. Good Luck! Applications Due April 10th, 2008 UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
ENTERTAINMENT JOE’S DIRT AN EDITORIAL ON RECENT MOVIE DEVELOPMENTS JOSEPH BRYANT
E Illustration ANDREW WILSON
ach installment of “Joe’s Dirt” is provided to give you a tidbit of movie news and subsequently subject you to my infallible opinion about said news. When simultaneous texts slammed their way into my inbox with news of Heath Ledger’s death, I had two thoughts. First, I thought about the possibilities of the iconic performances his burgeoning talent could’ve provided us with over the next 50 years. After a few minutes, despair set in as I realized that I had been robbed of my fucking Joker. Of course this is selfish, but after seeing the paltry minutes of his portrayal of the iconic villain in the latest trailer for The Dark Knight I was dead set in my belief that Ledger’s Joker would be what comic fans had been waiting decades for—and now the possibility of multiple movies with the same Joker had vanished. Warner Bros. took a much different approach to Ledger’s death. The entire marketing campaign for the sequel to 2005’s Batman Begins was structured around the Joker. Viral messages purportedly written by the Joker were splattered all over the internet, sometimes urging fans to don “Joker Face” and take pictures of them at landmarks from their hometowns (rorysdeathkiss.com), or sometimes taking potshots at the fictitious Gotham City
District Attorney hopeful Harvey Dent (Thank You For Smoking’s Aaron Eckhart). Not wanting to offend Ledger’s family and fans by showing the late star’s face covered in the make-up and scars of a psychotic, murderous clown, WB has instead switched the focus of their marketing to Mr. Dent’s campaign for DA. As fans know, Harvey Dent eventually becomes the viciously scarred Two-Face, a criminal obsessed with the number two; so for Batman enthusiasts the prospect of fake campaign posters is a cool nod (ibelieveinharveydent.com), but to the average moviegoer who might have a passing interest in The Dark Knight, the idea of
waving signs endorsing the dude from The Core for public office is just boring compared to the Joker’s antics. Just see for yourself, go to ibelieveinharveydenttoo.com and select all of the text for some creepiness. Heath Ledger’s death is a tragedy, but does it have to mar The Dark Knight in any way? I’ve heard people say that seeing Ledger as the Joker is going to take them out of the experience. Why? Every time you see Braveheart, are you going to think about how Mel Gibson is a bipolar racist? You should be able to realize that he’s an actor. These are people, and if you give them something to facilitate their problems they’re going to do so. If you have a video camera around Riggs during one of his fits of rage, you’re going to catch him talking about how much he hates Jews. If you give an insomniac a bunch of pills, he’s going to take them. What these people do offscreen shouldn’t taint what they do on-screen. Hopefully, Heath Ledger’s performance exceeds my expectations—everything I’ve heard about director Chris Nolan’s vision for the movie has so far. Recent developments have revealed that Cillian Murphy will reprise his role as the Scarecrow, Harvey Dent will be acid-splashed into Two-Face in the film, and that the movie was shot against the backdrop of Chicago without the clutter of Batman Begins’ Gotham. This means that Nolan is bringing us not only a more cohesive Gotham in terms of recurring characters and multiple threats for Batman to deal with, but that Gotham will feel like it could actually exist. Try and lose yourself in what Nolan has created for us—forget all the real world bullshit.
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COMICS
SUDOKU
MEDIUM
OMKAR- The Barbarian
HARD
You’re STUCK Here! by Victor! Perfecto
Crayon Box by David Faulk
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Hey. Hey, you. In the back. Why not e-mail editor Victor Camba: yourestuckhere@gmail.com Or drop them off at the Union office Student Union Office 256a
ANSWERS
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MEDIUM
Girly Girl by Christopher Troutman
UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
LITERATURE LITERARY ESSAY A MARXIST LOOK AT KAFKA’S THE METAMORPHOSIS
MICHAEL VEREMANS
I
Illustration
ANDREW WILSON
n a dark time in Prague’s history, 1915, wracked by tension between German and Czech nationalist groups and held in the tight grip of the bureaucracy and oppression of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Kafka penned and published his most widely known work, a novella, conservatively entitled The Metamorphosis. The text eventually became one of the staples of existential literature from the 20th century, but has rarely been taken in social and political context. Upon closer examination, it appears as a plaint of the times before the Revolution and the socialization of Eastern Europe. An existentialist interpretation of The Metamorphosis is a standard method, but when viewed with a Marxist eye, the story is turned on its side and changes in scope. When Gregor Samsa is suddenly translated into an “ungeheueren Ungeziefer”—in the original German— he is no longer able to continue his menial, proletariat job as salesman,
representative of capitalism, “Oh God, he thought, what an exhausting job I’ve picked on” (Kafka, Metamorphosis, 89). When he is changed, he suddenly embodies
UNION WEEKLY
26 MARCH 2008
his very social predicament, but he no longer works and, like the leisure class, forces, by virtue of his state, the people around him to attend to his needs. The family, thus, is thrown into the working class mire—those who, “… are reduced to selling their labor power in order to live” (Marx, Manifest, 57). Kafka never directly condemns Samsa for his work, though it be menial, before the metamorphosis takes place, Samsa supports his family, “At that time Gregor’s sole desire was to do his utmost to help the family to forget as soon as possible the catastrophe that had overwhelmed the business and thrown them all into a state of complete despair,” (Kafka, 110) because, “The bourgeoisie has torn away from the family its sentimental veil, and has reduced the family relation to a mere money relation” (Marx, 62). Although the transformation can be seen as a punishment, it is not visited upon the arch-employer, but rather the victimized proletariat class by the very bourgeois that depend on them. Rather than continuing to suffer and work, he is rendered useless, showing the dependency of the upper class on the subjugated lower class, and becoming a bug.
When Gregor Samsa’s parents begin to get upset with their son, it is because he has
TEXT AND THE CITY become unproductive, what Marx calls, “… the exploitation of children by their parents.” (88). He comes to represent the class struggle, the lower class that is put out and cannot communicate its pain and isolation, like cloistered animals. The parents are forced to work in their last years because they are not being socially provided for, and make Gregor the object of their scorn, expressing the general discontent of the masses for this symbol of capitalism—the beginnings of revolutionary thought. The entire scenario would see itself mooted if the Austro-Hungarian Empire offered what the EU now considers basic human rights: health care and social security. The parents would have been supported, the daughter would have had the means to attend university, and Gregor Samsa would have been treated fairly as a worker. In this light, Samsa is turned into an insect by subjugation— he is the proletariat suffering for the sins of the upper classes like his family suffers for him.
THIS WEEK: MY DESPERATE SEARCH FOR A GHOSTWRITER AND WHY I DON’T FEEL THAT BAD ABOUT IT I was in a bad way when I finally came up with an idea for my column this week. I had just asked a fifth coworker to ghostwrite it for me and had been refused a fifth time. “But hundreds of books are ghostwritten a year,” I argued, half-pleading. I decided to hit the internet to back up my claim. Of course, I probably could have been using my “research” time to think of ideas, but that’s beside the point. What I found floored me. I was off in my estimate, but by a much larger margin than I expected. According to Claudia Suzanne (which sounds like a blatant pen name if you ask me) of Writers Weekly (and yes, I noticed the fact that the title of a writers’ publication is grammatically incorrect), fifty percent or more of traditionally published books are ghostwritten in some aspect. Fifty percent! Or more! I am utterly flabbergasted. I mean, I always knew that books like Goosebumps and The Baby-Sitters Club were ghostwritten. I assumed that most political candidates and celebrities had ghostwriters pen their “autobiographies.” Heck, even as a child I wondered if Santa had really written all of those response letters or if he had handed the task off to his less busy and less important elves. But fifty percent? That disturbs me. It makes me wonder how many of my favorite books were ghostwritten. Franny and Zooey? The Stranger? Cat’s Cradle? Were all my years of Steinbeckworship as meaningless as those letters from “Santa?” (I later discovered that said letters had been ghostwritten, but by my mother and not by elves.) So, no. I don’t feel bad for trying to pawn this column off on other people this week. If it’s good enough for R.L. Stine, it’s good enough for me. And yeah, maybe this week’s column falls short of good, but that’s alright. I blame my ghostwriter (or lack thereof ). ERIN HICKEY
Illustrations
JACKI GUTIERREZ
CREATIVE ARTS
Podland Speagle Pt. 1: Voluntary Imprisonment dirt of the world (as far as they know) is put into small circular or square pods that plants can grow out of. Despite that, the plants are always trimmed to fit the pod (never the other way around) and in many cases, are bred to remain that size forever. They do the same thing to some animals, so to speak. The benefit of these pods is that they’re air conditioned and heated, for the most part. Not all of them though: some poorer pod countries have a lot of shitty pods that are sometimes really made out of dung. People don’t seem to care much for these shitty pods, or the pod people that live shitty lives in them. The menge pods always seem timeless from a distance but they are actually often built and burnt, for both good and bad reasons. They are constructed, for the most part, by smaller pods that serve smaller functions. When they are destroyed, it is usually by winged, bomb-carrying pods in the sky that are sent from even bigger pods, controlled by one of those bossy pods I told you about before. And the pods have names! They all have great names that are constructed like this: (loaded noun) + pod. They have names like: carpod, hospitalpod, bunkerpod, trainstationpod, homepod, schoolpod, universitypod, and parliamentpod or prisonpod. Most of the pods are happy, some of them are angry. The strangest thing about the pods, though, is that no one minds that type of life, they even developed a pod culture. Some of the pods look like cages, and some look like nothing at all. There is just all kinds of pods. And so it goes from pod to pod until death when they are encased in a very close fitting pod that is put into the ground so that the deceased can go to the great pod in the sky. They live, doing nothing but switching pods over and over, until the day one of those pods kills you or you die in another (the same one that the pod people are born in). UNION WEEKLY
26 March 2008
Illustrations
T
here is a world where all of the people spend their entire lives in pods. Of course it looks just like Earth from the outside, green and rich, blue and cloudy. Everyone in this world is born into an enclosure called a pod, usually with family present and the other people that happened to work in that pod. They are then transferred from pod to pod until they reached the pod that their parents live in (but rarely seem to own). At this point they probably still haven’t seen the sun or dirt, just the ceilings and floors of the pods. They grow up in that pod, getting nutrients from other larger pods that specialized in distributing food and other things. They go to education pods that teach them how to function inside of the other interesting and varied pods that exist in the pod world. Despite the variety, most people prefer to visit as few pods as possible, some even brag about how few pods they’ve experienced! And they certainly don’t experience anything outside of those pods. They eventually end up working in some pods and living in other, smaller pods in the vicinity, using wheeled pods to transport themselves from the portal of one pod to another. They sometimes visit extremely large pods together, thousands of them at a time, to view the people that work in those entertaining pods. Also, at some point in antiquity, some pods decided they could make decisions regarding almost all other pods—laws, which restrict—but pod people don’t feel too strongly about freedom anyways. They manage to contain everything important to them in these pods. All of the
KATIE REINMAN
MICHAËL VEREMANS
17
CULTURE
THE LIFESTYLE OF GREATER LOS ANGELES
SPRING FLING
RACHEL RUFRANO: DIRECTOR RYAN KOBANE AND KEVIN JARA: PHOTOS KATHY MIRANDA AND RACHEL RUFRANO: STYLISTS KATRINA SAWHNEY: MAKEUP ANTHONY VEZIRIAN AND MAGGIE BOLES: MODELS COLORADO LAGOON: LOCATION
“Tangier Bees Only Sting Dishonest Men.”
The Grunion
Volume 62 Issue 9
Wednesday, March 26th 2008
Disclaimer: This page is satire. We are not ASI, nor do we represent the CSULB campus. Send rags to EarlGrey@lbunion.com
LBUNION.COM
This Sex Change Allows Me to Vote For Hillary Clinton Free of Masculine Guilt BY SUE NIGELLA CORNWALL III, GRUNION OPINION HAVERER
Craig (above, left) proceeds to humiliate his friend Kenny with an impromptu finger-in-ear.
Secret Turns Out To Be Wet Willy BY FANCY LASH GRUNION GENTLEMAN Craig “totally got” Kenny the other day when he pretended to have a secret for him and instead placed a moistened finger in his ear. “It sucked, dude,” noted Kenny. “It wasn’t cool at all.” Those in the audience of the indignity—mainly other guys that were hanging around the couch at a mutual friend’s party—found the reversal of fortune to be quite funny. “There was no secret to begin with,” noted Rick. “Which is what I appreciated most about the joke.” Following the assault, Kenny shoved Craig and attempted to dry his soggy ear canal with the collar of his shirt, which his friends also thought to be very funny.
According to a recent, unreturned text message sent by Craig in an effort to pacify the situation before it escalated to a point of irreconcilability, Kenny is no longer speaking with him. “The text basically said that I’m sorry that I betrayed his trust and that he should stop being such a fucking pussy and just talk to me about his feelings,” said Craig. “And I just think it’s like super cowardly that he won’t even talk to me about this shit like a man, through text-based media.” Kenny, who read, but refuses to respond to the text, said that Craig is a “dick” and “can go fuck himself.” “Seriously, it’s not funny!” said Kenny as his eyes began to fill with tears. “Seriously, shut up! It’s not even that funny! I fucking hate you!” Continued on Page A4
As I look down and watch surgeons make incisions through my genitals, carefully flaying the skin from my penis, I can’t help but allow my mind to wander to the pressing issues of our time, such as how our government has been rendered a bloody, lifeless mass of flesh as of late. I mean that figuratively of course. With the forthcoming nomination of the Democratic candidate for president, our country has the opportunity to change itself in a very beautiful way. But, as with any change that has the potential to inflame tensions and scar our country, it is important to have the right person leading the way. Although the two remaining candidates, Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton, are quite similar, there is a clear-cut seam to be cleaved through them. Barack Obama, having served only eleven years in elective office, is the least-experienced candidate in this race. Compounding his deep-seated optimism with this has lead many to cast him as naïve. He also often displays openness about his imperfections and a willingness to include all in coming to a decision, even those considered as enemies to our country. These are the qualities that I, and this country, have come to expect from our presidents, and it is no wonder that many women flock to Hillary Clinton rather than him. They just
can’t relate to his masculine mentalities. And yet, as I watch the surgeons invert my penis through a hole they’ve carved into my pelvis, I can’t help but admire the strengths offered by Hillary Clinton as a candidate. Hillary Clinton, serving an impressive seven years in elective office, is the candidate of experience, and her decisiveness shows it. Whereas Barack Obama merely proposes processes that require the consultation of advisors, Hillary Clinton has already devised policy solutions for every major issue our government faces today. She is truly progressive, unlike Barack Obama, because she doesn’t dwell on defeats, mistakes, or bad news. And, despite all signs pointing to it being impossible for her to win without deeply hurting the group that supports her, she fights on because she alone knows how to pull this off, all the while maintaining her secrecy. As the perfect representation of all that it means to be strong and feminine, it is no wonder that housewives and feminists alike have placed their support firmly behind Hillary Clinton, and I see no obvious way to argue against them. So, as the surgeons pick back the scab that has formed over my new vagina, it is resolved: I, Sue Nigella Cornwall III, am voting for Hillary, not because she is a woman, but because I am.
INSIDE Student Expresses Individuality Through Rare Bone Disease
Area high school sophomore Lisa Espinosa’s diagnosis with Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva (FOP) has given her a long-sought-after sense of freedom from her “boring and mundane” peers, despite the fact that the disease will eventually cause bones to form in her muscles and tendons, leading to an impossibly painful death. PAGE N0
Retarded Mayor Can’t Get Down From Tree
No one knows how he got up there, but Retarded Mayor is definitely stuck up in that huge elm. Sources believe he was attempting to catch a squirrel. PAGE C7
Area Family To Downsize PAGE A3
Ex-Porn Star Just Wants To Eat Banana In Peace PAGE
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